i, thirst for nudging
the butter lamp to peep inside
the dark of a Shiva crater
of human suffering,
between your pain and my blood
there was ancient history,
where will you go now, no
light has touched you so far
the moon takes a bath inside
a sleeping volcano of perfect
aches, staring in the sad eyes
of a fauna
brace your window and taste
your memory, lift the quivering hands
to welcome the blank pages
of future
Satish Verma
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem